My Hope
by TheDemonsWithin
Summary: Melvin thought his life was over. But then she enters it, and everything starts to piece itself together. But when he loses his job and starts drinking again, what will happen? (Melvin x OC) ONESHOT!


_**Author's Note** : So... Hi. Okay, yes, I know I haven't updated Psychotic in months and I'm a terrible person and there's no excuses. I get it! I just sorta forgot about it... BUT! I will finish it soon! I'm gonna start working on it now! I promise, it will get done!_

 _Now, about this. It's a oneshot between Yami Marik (whom I call Melvin) and my OC, Erica (who's far different in this story than in Psychotic). I got the inspiration for it after a sad song marathon. It's not very good, but I thought I'd try... Anyway, see you soon! Hope you enjoy! Oh, and **it's in Melvin's POV**!_

* * *

It was raining that day. I remember that much. And not just a light drizzle, it was dark, gray, and lonely as the rain fell in buckets rather than droplets. But despite that terrible, dreary storm, she left. She ran right out into the night, her tears flowing almost as strong as the rain that instantly drenched her. I knew I should've went after her, but… I didn't. And that was the worst mistake of my life. Well, second worst.

* * *

Long before that day, I met her. I remember it as if it were life-changing, because it was. There I was, fresh out of prison for the umpteenth time in my life with no where to go. My apartment was long since taken away from me, and I had no relatives or friends that were willing to even speak with me anymore.

So, taking the tiny scrap of money I'd saved, I did the most cliche thing in the whole world. I went to the nearest convenient store and bought the first alcoholic beverage I could find. I didn't drink often, but what else was I to do with no house, no friends, no job, no hope, no _life._ I no longer cared what became of me, so I figured I might as well drink away what was left of my pathetic life.

I walked to the nearest park and sat down on the bench. I looked around as I tipped the bottle to my lips, not particularly liking the flavor but finding comfort in the relaxation it brought. There were no children in the park today, it was near the middle of autumn, too cold for outdoor activities. This thought made me look down; I was in only some old, ripped jeans and a black tank top, the only clothes I owned. I suppose I could steal some more and get put in prison again, maybe finally rot away in the horrible place. This was the thought running through my mind when I saw _her._

She was a tall brunette with big, innocent brown eyes. And those particular eyes were glued to a book she was entranced by as she walked down the path beside my bench. The wind blew her shoulder-length, brown hair back as she turned the page. I noted that a few parts of her hair were tinged with pink and purple. I found this interesting as my eyes trailed down the rest of her body. She was wearing a tan colored jacket with black leather sleeves, a black skirt, black tights, and knee-high tan boots. I also noted she wore a colorful scarf that clashed with her outfit greatly, the same way her colored hair clashed with her personality. By the way she walked with a lack of confidence and how far her nose was buried in her book, I assumed she was a shy person. I wondered why a girl like this caught my attention. Any girl that'd captured my gaze previously had usually been covered in tattoos and piercings, clad in all black clothes with chains and a lot of exposed skin. Although, I hadn't actually ever been with another girl. I thought love was pointless, a waste of my time. That is, until this brunette just happened to trip over my foot, which I'd forgotten to move out of her path.

She squeaked, the book flying out in front of her, too shocked to remember to catch herself. She landed on the dirt at my feet, groaning in pain. I watched silently, cursing myself at my inability to simply apologize like a normal person. She sat up and looked at me, and I expected a high-pitched, screechy voice to yell at me for being a jerk. That's how most girls as beautiful as her spoke to me. That's why her next move shocked me enough to make me set down my bottle.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I should've been watching where I was going…" I noticed how soft and sweet her voice was. And I wanted to hear more of it. Unfortunately, my stupid mouth decided that a mumbled 'whatever' was a reasonable response.

I watched as she crawled over and retrieved her book, then stood and brushed herself off. Assuming she'd leave, I picked up my beverage and took a long drink. The sound of her velvet voice caught me off guard.

"Oh, aren't you cold? You haven't even got any sleeves!" I looked up and saw her clutching her book to her chest, her chocolate eyes bursting with concern. I cleared my throat and shrugged, trying to avoid her gaze. I didn't deserve something so innocent and kind. But she didn't let up.

"Here, this'll help." With that, I felt something soft and warm fall onto my shoulders. I looked up in shock to realize that she'd given her coat to me. _Me_ , a creepy stranger trying to get drunk in a children's park. She smiled at me, and I knew right then that I would do anything in my power to see that gorgeous smile forever. When that fact clicked in my brain, I spoke my first coherent sentence to her.

"Oh, no, I don't need it. But, um… thank you…" I stood, towering over her and attempting to hand the jacket back to her. Whenever I stand next to most people, they cower in fear at my intimidating size. But she didn't. She giggled so softly that I almost missed the dainty sound.

"Nah, I have plenty of jackets back at my apartment. I can handle walking home without one once if it means you're warmer. Do you, um… Do you not have a coat back at your house?..." She looked up at me with such sincerity that I almost felt guilty for just being in her graceful presence. Nevertheless, I couldn't help but chuckle at her caring yet naive question.

"I don't even have a _house_ , miss." Several expressions crossed her face after my words registered in her mind. First shock, then regret, then sadness, then urgency.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize…" She paused to clear her throat. "Anyway, you must come home with me! It's going to get very cold tonight, you'll freeze out here!"

Before I could protest and tell her I'd just been in _prison_ the previous night, she had a firm hold on my arm and was leading me back down the path, my drink forgotten on the bench for parents to complain about the next day. I looked down at her determined face, amazed at the generosity she was showing me. No one had ever cared for my well-being before...

* * *

I looked around her small apartment, various items scattered everywhere. Mostly books and pencils, implying she was a hard-working student. I sat down on her small couch while she scurried off to the kitchen to prepare me some hot chocolate. Once she came back, handing me the mug and a large, fluffy blanket, I asked a question.

"Are you in college?" She looked to be about 21 or 22, so I knew she was out of high school. I was 24.

She looked at me, then around at her messy living room and smiled sheepishly, plopping down on the small chair across from the couch. "Oh, yeah, sorry about the mess. I'm studying to be a guidance counselor."

Her eyes lit up, and her smile became excited as she spoke of it. I myself couldn't help but smile slightly at her obvious passion for the job. My already slight smile disappeared though, as I thought more. This sweet, shy girl who was only a few years younger than me was in the process of doing a great thing with her life, while I was homeless, alone, and, just a few moments before, not caring what happened to me. I looked down at my untouched hot chocolate and felt the unwelcome warmth of anger beginning to flush over me. Why was I so hopeless and pathetic? Why did I have to be cursed with this stupid, miserable life?! Why was she so lucky?!

I stood and growled, my gaze snapping to her as I clenched my fist and knocked the drink over. As soon as I saw the fear in her eyes, I knew I should back off. But instead, I started coming closer to her.

"I can't even afford liquor or do simple math…" As I more closely approached her, her fear turned to sympathy which stopped me in my tracks. She wasn't scared…?

"I… I'm so sorry… Would you like me to help you?" Her innocent, brown orbs looked up into my tainted, evil lavender ones.

"Help… me?"

"Yeah, help you. I can teach you some of my lessons. And you're welcome to stay here until you get some more money. Well," she bit her lip, "o-only if you give up the booze while you're here…"

My surprise was evident. She'd let me stay here after all that?... And she'd help me get the education I'd never recieved as a children? She sensed my surprise, and it made her smile.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you sleep out on the streets, silly! Now, you get cozy while I clean up that cocoa…" She giggled and went to the kitchen. I sank back into my seat, blinking in utter shock. But slowly, a real, genuine smile grew on my face. And it was the first one I'd had in years.

* * *

The next few months went by in a blur. I learned the girl's name was Erica, and she was the most incredible person I'd ever met in my life. I stayed in her small apartment with her, where we studied together each night. After only a few weeks, she helped me find a job as a cashier at a nearby department store. Nothing flashy, but it helped me earn money. And I used that money to help pay her bills and for college, not to buy alcohol. In fact, I didn't have a single sip of the drink in those months. I fell in love with her quickly, and she somehow returned the feeling, as we began dating after only a month of knowing each other. After almost a year of being together, we'd saved up enough money to buy a bigger apartment in a nicer part of town. She learned of my checkered past and the horrifying secrets I held, and she accepted them and me, saying all that mattered was that I tried my best to be a better person. I woke up to her smiling face every morning and had my arm around her everywhere we went. My life was flawless.

Until that day.

I was on my way to work when a large man with dark eyes and multiple scars approached me. I recognized him instantly. He was an inmate at the prison I was in that I constantly got into fights with. I didn't think he'd get out of prison for years, and yet, here he was, throwing a fierce punch to my face. I had just enough time to dodge, only to be kneed roughly in the gut. I growled and instinct took over. I fought with him for several minutes before my manager came out and called the cops, firing me on the spot. Luckily, my boss had also called my love, my Erica, and she showed up just as I was getting cuffed. After tearing up at seeing my beaten and bloody form, she listened to my story and vouched for me. The police let me go, not before telling me I was incredibly lucky. Erica helped me back home where she tended to my wounds, weeping silently and holding my hand tightly. I asked her what we were going to do, now that we didn't have my financial income to aid us. She smiled and shushed me, telling me not to worry. But I did.

I slightly lost my hope once again, preventing me from getting another job. To make up for it, Erica picked up a second job while still balancing her schoolwork. She came home each night with a smile, but, after she thought I went to bed at night, I could hear her frustrated and exasperated cries as she studied far too late into the night. Once I discovered that her grades started to slip (not enough to affect her graduation, just enough to make me feel even more guilty), I began to drink again while she went to classes and work. She didn't notice at first, but after about a month, she said my mouth tasted strange when we kissed. I shrugged it off, but it made her suspicious, and she snooped around, founding a few beer bottles.

That was when the worst moment of my life happened.

She came up to me, holding one of them. Her face was firm and angry, but I could see the dried, disappointed tears on her delicate cheeks. She asked me about it calmly, and I grunted in annoyance.

"It's not a big deal, Erica. Just something to help me get my motivation back."

" _What_ motivation? Because I can tell you right now, this isn't it. You're going back to how you were when we first met. Except then, you promised me you wouldn't drink anymore! How could you do this to me?!"

Her normally soft voice raising is what set off my own anger that'd been building inside me. "Why is it such a big deal?! God, if you weren't so annoying, maybe I'd actually help you out more."

I winced inwardly as I saw the hurt seep into her eyes at my words. "Well, I'm sorry for caring about you, you jerk! And it's such a big deal because you know I come from a family of alcoholics, and I don't wanna see you end up like them!"

She burst into hurt and worried tears, and I knew I should've softened my voice and comforted her. But instead, I increased my fight, and it turned into a screaming match. First about my drinking, then about her studies, and finally about our financial problems, which was where the root of my anger stemmed from. Truly, I wasn't mad at her at all. I was mad at myself for my past, for losing my job, for not being able to help her. But I was too dense to realize it in that moment. So I made the worst choice of my life after one of her statements cut too deep.

"Maybe if you loved me enough to actually help out and get a job, we wouldn't be arguing right now!"

The fact that she thought I didn't love her was what broke me. No, that wasn't it. It was the fact that I _made_ her think I didn't love her. That was what hurt me enough to make me send a fist flying at her.

I could never truly hurt her though, no matter how angry I was. So my fist went through the wall directly beside her head, not hitting her at all. But the tragic fact that I'd simply implied that I wanted to hurt her was enough. When I looked down at her, she was staring up at me as if I'd just murdered a kitten. Her eyes, already spilling with tears, had a new, deep hurt that I'd never seen before. Without another word, she took off running out the door and into the unforgiving rain. I ran to the door to stop her, but my pride caused me to stop at the doorway. But that was close enough for me to catch her three final words to me.

"I hate you!"

I almost missed it through the devastating rain, but once it registered in my mind, the words were crisp and clear. And painful.

Through my frustration, I managed to put several more holes in the wall. Once my temper tantrum subsided, I fell to my knees and began to cry, breathing heavily. And my cries turned into sobs, and I sat there and wailed for hours, screaming at anything and everything for my own stupidity. I let the best thing that had ever happened to me run out the door. I'd hurt her. I made her hate me.

I curled up and sobbed for who knows how long before I noticed the half empty bottle of beer beside me. I grabbed it and chucked it at the wall, but then picked up a full one and started to drink away my agony. She was gone, what else did I have to live for? She wasn't coming back. She hated me. And I still loved her. God, I loved her...

* * *

So here I am. Only about a month later, very close to getting kicked out of our- scratch that- _my_ apartment, stealing alcohol whenever I can, hoping I'll die soon. The hurt I still feel through the alcohol is the worst pain I've ever felt in my life, far worse than it was the day Erica and I met at the park. Because back then, I didn't lose anything that was worth keeping. But this time, I lost my entire world.

I closed my eyes and laid on the floor, wishing the apartment would catch on fire. No, wishing _I_ would catch on fire. I wouldn't want any of her things to burn… I hadn't seen her since she'd ran out that night. I assumed she went to stay with her friend or parents, too scared to see me again. Afraid I'd actually hit her this time. At that thought, I began to cry again. Drinking, fighting, and crying is all I'd done since she left.

"I just wish I'd never hurt you... I wish I wasn't so stupid…"

"Well, that makes two of us."

At the sound of that voice, my eyes snapped open, and I was on my feet within in milliseconds. There she was, at my door. I'd forgotten she still had a key… She was wearing a black dress with a simple jean jacket. Black was my favorite color on her...

I stared at her in amazement. "Erica…"

"Melvin…" Before she even finished my name, she was across the room and in my arms. I was shocked, but I clung to her for all I was worth. We were both crying when she looked up into my eyes.

"I-I thought you hated me, Mel… I just came back t-to get my stuff out of your way, b-but... you want me back?..."

I looked down at her in sheer astonishment. She thought _I_ hated _her_?!

"Erica, of course I want you back! But you said _you_ hated _me_!"

She looked up at me and smiled her beautiful, genuine smile. "Mel, I was hurt and sad, I didn't mean that. I love you more than anything in the entire world. Heck, you _are_ my entire world."

I broke into a huge grin and grabbed her cheeks, claiming her lips for the first time in what felt like an eternity. And she kissed me back just as loving. After some time, I broke away from our kiss, breathless.

"And you're my everything. I love you." I hugged her against me and ran my fingers through her hair. I heard her giggle and saw a light blush sprouting from her cheeks. A few peaceful minutes later, she spoke.

"If we're gonna be together again, absolutely no drinking. No exceptions." She looked up at me seriously.

I smiled at her and caressed both her cheeks, looking directly into her eyes and meaning every word I spoke. "Gladly. I'll do anything for you, love."

She smiled and melted into my embrace again. I rested my head on top of hers and closed my eyes, smiling like the luckiest man in the world. Which I was. My life was slowly coming back together, and she was the glue that kept me whole. Thanks to her, I had once again regained my hope. In the brief seconds it took me to realize this, I also realized that she _was_ my hope. I looked down at my breath-taking hope and smiled.

This time, I wasn't going to lose it.

* * *

"Mel?"

"Hm?"

We had moved to the couch, but we were still in each other's arms. As it should be.

"There's one more thing I needed to tell you... Another reason I was scared to come back... And um, partially why I was so worried and frustrated before, and why our fight started…"

I looked down at her curiously and raises an eyebrow. "Yes, what is it?..."

She smiled joyously up at me, a mischievous glint shining in her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

 _ **The End.**_

* * *

 _So that's it! Like it? Hate it? Be gentle, please... Anyway, review, and I'll see you soon! Bye! 3_


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